


Healing.

by Bread_Bird



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hospital, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Fix-It, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Healing, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Hurt/Comfort, Killing Game Was A Virtual Reality Simulation (Dangan Ronpa), Kinda, More tags and relationships to be added, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-23
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-14 06:34:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29663208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bread_Bird/pseuds/Bread_Bird
Summary: The killing game of V3 was all a simulation, all an elaborate act put on by Tsumugi, but with devastating physical consequences for the participants. Now that the game is over, they finally have the time to relax and heal from it all, slowly but surely.Alternately, I think the ending of V3 is bullshit and this is how I'm coping. I'll update intermittently!
Relationships: Akamatsu Kaede/Saihara Shuichi, Amami Rantaro/Shinguji Korekiyo, Harukawa Maki/Momota Kaito, Hoshi Ryoma & Tojo Kirumi, Oma Kokichi & Saihara Shuichi
Comments: 27
Kudos: 70





	1. Chapter 1

Shuichi’s head was swimming.

He could see spots behind his eyes mere seconds after he finished talking to Himiko and Maki, light coursing through the dome. Tsumugi was done for, so was Keebo, and they had just finished discussing the idea that they may be able to leave. So why, then, did he feel so dizzy?

He barely registered that he had hit the ground when he did. He heard something crack, and he felt a dull pain somewhere in his head, but it didn’t really click that he had thunked down against the concrete. Himiko and Maki appeared in his line of sight, but their voices sounded far away, a ringing in his ears drowning them out completely. They looked like they were yelling. He couldn’t tell. They were too blurry. His limbs felt heavy, and he couldn’t lift his head off the ground; he was so tired all of the sudden, so exhausted. It had been a long fight, but it was over, and now was not the time to rest. Still, though, he couldn’t move. Almost against his will, he felt his eyes shut, and off in the distance, he could have sworn he heard a distant piano…

When Shuichi woke again, it was certainly more pleasant than going down had been. Birds were chirping outside, and sunlight was filtering through the window. He didn’t recognize the wall in front of him, nor the dull curtains. The clothes he was wearing felt papery- was he in a hospital? He sat up, rubbing his eye, only to find that there was gauze wrapped around his head. His hair felt disgusting, too, but what was initially more concerning was the man sitting in the chair across from his bed. He was, in fact, in a hospital, judging by the machines around him, as well as the robe that the other man was wearing. He also had some gauze wrapped around his head, part of his fluffy looking green hair shaved to accomodate for it. The piercings in his ears shone in the sunlight, and he was fiddling with the bracelets on his wrists. Shuichi didn’t mind the company, but that certainly didn’t excuse the fact that he had no idea who was sitting with him. He didn’t say anything for a few moments. He didn’t have to; the green haired man looked up at him, and he gave him a kind, gentle smile. “Good morning, Shuichi!”

“Uh… hi. Who are you, exactly?” he asked, bunching up the blankets in his hand. He was suddenly incredibly aware of how bare and empty he felt in the paper gown. “And could I have my hat and clothes, please?”

“You’ll get ‘em back in a little bit, I promise personally. My name is Rantaro, but you’ll remember that soon.” The man- Rantaro, apparently- stood, walking to the edge of the bed and sitting on it. “I’m gonna tell you a few things. They’re not going to make much sense right now, but you’ll get it in time, okay? You’ll be glad you know.”

Hesitantly, Shuichi nodded. “Is this good news?”

“Nah. You were in a really bad situation- we all were, really- and after you remember, you’ll have wished you forgot. It’ll be fine, though,” Rantaro sighed, looking up at the ceiling. “So, Tsumugi lied to you guys. She was our mastermind, and she did kinda write up a bit of code to put us on, but really, it was all some kind of simulation. We’re real.”

“Why wouldn’t we be real?”

“You’ll see later. We were picked up by some people called the Future Foundation, apparently this isn’t nearly as widespread as Tsumugi said it was. Just a bunch of despair-afflicted freaks rounding up a bunch of Ultimates, brainwashing them, and live streaming this shit to a still healing world. In regards to the simulation, uh… people are waking up one by one. It’s a slow process, and everyone seems to have sustained the same injuries that they got in the simulation, but thankfully, no one’s dead. You have a couple scratches, bumps, and bruises, plus a minor concussion, but you’re pretty much unharmed. Congratulations on surviving; Kaede’s super proud of you.”

“Who is Kaede?” When Rantaro didn’t answer, Shuichi frowned. “You’re really not going to tell me anything, are you?”

“I know the least about this situation. You don’t want to hear it from me anyway, you won’t believe me. Anyway… I’m awake. I woke up first, minor skull fracture, but I certainly didn’t get the worst of it. Tenko woke up next; you should have seen her when she got her memories back, she was wild. Maki and Ryoma are both awake, and they tend to drift around and see people, but Maki rarely leaves Kaito’s side. Himiko might be up, but none of us can tell if she’s woken up and decided to go back to sleep or if she’s still in her coma. Kaede’s awake, and so are you. Tsumugi and Kiyo are also awake, but… they usually keep to themselves, to say the least. I don’t think either of them have left their rooms in a while. So, that leaves Keebo, who is apparently a human, Kaito, Gonta, Miu, Angie, Kirumi… and Kokichi,” Rantaro sighed, flopping down onto his back. “We’re not sure Kokichi’s going to wake up, though. He got really fucked up by that hydraulic press, he’s in a full body cast. Kirumi, Kiyo, and Kaito looked really, really bad too, though, so we really have no way of knowing. It’s been about three months since everything ended, and… that’s about it, I think. Any questions?”

“Plenty, actually, what-”

“None? Great,” he stood up once again, and Shuichi’s voice died in his throat. “Do you want me to stay here with you? You’ll get your memory of the game back eventually, three days at most, and it may be better if you have someone here with you.”

“I think I’ll be fine without it,” Shuichi frowned, sinking down against his pillows. Rantaro shrugged, heading over to the door and leaning against the doorway.

“Alright. Come get us when you remember, okay? We’re all excited to see you.” He waited for Shuichi’s affirming nod, and he left, gently shutting the door. Shuichi settled into his bed, having no more answers than he did when he had first woken up, and no idea who any of the names that Rantaro had listed just were. A game, a hydraulic press, a simulation, injuries… it was all a hell of a lot to process, and he didn’t have the full story. He couldn’t help but feel a sense of deja vu, waking up somewhere with no memory… it was frustrating. He wanted his things back, and he wanted to know where he was and when he could go home. It’s not like he had much information to work with, though, and he doubted whoever the hell Kaede was would give him any answers… For lack of a better word, he felt hopeless. Settling down into bed and taking a glance around the room, he noticed a book sitting on his nightstand. Something about pianists of the last five centuries, he saw, which is never something he could remember having any interest in, but it was a thick book, and he would apparently be waiting for a while. Knowing that much, he grabbed the book, flipped it open, and started from the beginning.

It held his interest fine enough. It was just another book, and he was still somewhat distracted trying to dissect what Rantaro had said to him. It was more of a leisurely read than anything else, just something to say that he had occupied his mind instead of stressing himself out. Hours later, the sunset shining through the blinds, Shuichi was sitting with his hands resting on the cover of the book in his lap, he felt a slight pain behind his eyes. He assumed it was the sun at first, or maybe he was just tired, but that’s when it all came rushing back.

The game. The death of his friends. Every single agonizing moment, every single little traumatic piece… and her. He almost wished he didn’t remember who Kaede was, just so he didn’t have to remember the image of her hanging by her neck, her feet smacking against the piano keys as she slowly suffocated to death… Kaede. Awake and alive, Rantaro had mentioned earlier. Shuichi’s chest was heaving, and he could feel the tears brimming in his eyes already, but all he could think about in that moment was getting to  _ her.  _

He threw the book aside, letting it hit the wall with a sort of reckless abandon he wouldn’t have had through that entire mess. He grabbed the pole his IV was hooked up to, wheeling it right along with him as he ran out into the hall. He could hear his socked feet smacking against the floor, the grips being the only thing keeping him from meeting the tiles below his feet. The sun was just a bit brighter through the blinds in the hallway, casting a golden glow across bland tile and walls. None of that mattered, though, because there she was, right at the end of the hallway, blonde hair sparkling in the sunlight, a robe identical to Rantaro’s tied tightly around her waist. She must have heard him- the entire hospital must have heard him, if he was being honest- because she turned, and a smile spread across her face immediately. Nothing looked so angelic as her opening her arms to him, and he ran right into them, careful not to knock her over. 

The light sniffle he heard from her had him breaking down instantly, sobbing against her shoulder, and within a few seconds, they had both dropped to their knees, clutching onto each other as they cried. It was a relief not to have to be strong anymore, not for the good of some forced cause or for other people in a screwed up game. He just had to be here right now, reunited once more with Kaede; a new beginning, the ability to start over in safety and comfort as they recovered. When one of them finally managed to pull away, Shuichi noticed the marks around Kaede’s throat from the rope, and he gently reached up to run his fingers over it. “Kaede, y-your neck….”

“Healing, it’s fine,” she croaked. Her voice was scratchy, not nearly as bright and melodious as it had once been, but it was just as comforting, just as much Kaede’s as it ever had been. “What about you, are you okay?”

“Yes,” he replied immediately, falling right back into her grasp, burying his face into her shoulder. He could hear her chuckle softly, and her hand ran gently down his back. He was safe again, as far as he was concerned; right now, not a damn thing in the world could ruin this moment. “So, so much more than okay.”


	2. Chapter 2

There were a few telltale signs, Rantaro had explained to Shuichi previously, to noticing when someone was going to wake up. Some people, like Tenko, woke up with a start out of absolutely nowhere, and others, you could tell days in advance. He was one of those people, apparently; they had someone by his bed the entire time after they started noticing them, twenty four hours a day, for four straight days. Kaede had apparently left the room mere hours before he had woken up, watching him through the night and well into the early hours of the morning. It was little things; a flutter of the eyelids, light responses to outside stimulus, the occasional twitch of the fingers, or a murmured word, for example. He had been told that he would say lines that sounded exactly like something he had said in the previous class trials, apparently repeating old lines from the determined ‘end of the game’ in the three months or so he was in a coma. He was quite embarrassed by it, but Kaede said it was cute, and that smile was certainly something he could live with.

Regardless, when Kirumi started showing these signs, those who were awake were thrilled, save for Korekiyo and Tsumugi, who were still isolating themselves. Maki’s excitement was slightly dulled by Kaito still being asleep, but everyone was ecstatic to have her back, including Ryoma. No one had expected him to show any emotion, but the tennis star seemed to have softened up when Shuichi was asleep. He didn’t know the specifics, but Ryoma had his cat back and knew he wasn’t going to prison again, and on top of that, he was getting the mental help he had clearly needed for a while. He wasn’t amazingly better, but he was improving, and he seemed pleased that Kirumi was waking up, even though she had been the one to kill him to begin with. They were all relieved, really; after finding out about her past, and feeling the guilt that they did for her after her execution, it had been a little disheartening to see her in some of the worst conditions out of all of their classmates. Shuichi suspected that some of his more selfish classmates would want her awake for their own personal benefit, but the nurses would chase them away soon enough. Her hands looked downright awful; she wouldn’t be doing much with them for a while.

It didn’t really matter why they were there, all of those who were awake crowded around Kirumi in the middle of the day as they waited for her to wake up. They had taken her room as a general meeting place since she started showing signs a week ago, talking quietly or doing activities on their own (which they found Tenko to have a hard time with- they had to kick her out numerous times). They had even managed to get Maki away from Kaito’s bedside for a little while, and she was currently on the floor, playing cards with Shuichi and Kaede. Rather, she was playing cards. Shuichi and Kaede were both distracted, sitting at arms’ length from each other while they held hands and tried not to pass out from sheer excitement and embarrassment. Shuichi felt like a little kid on the playground rather than some great detective, a bit like a real teenager as he flipped a card onto the pile. 

That’s when the bed behind them shifted, ever so slightly. It was barely a rustle in the blankets, followed by a pained groan that was barely audible, but it had all of them on their feet at Kirumi’s bedside. Almost like a dream, her eyes fluttered open, and the entire room let out a breath, but stayed silent. They let the maid have a moment to look over all of them, and she furrowed her brow in confusion. “What… happened?” she asked, her voice quiet and a bit raspy. Three people started talking all at once, Rantaro trying to give what seemed to be his standard answer, Tenko just starting to go off on a tangent about how she was forgiven immediately, and Kaede was telling her to relax for a bit and and try to heal before she did anything reckless. Kirumi immediately looked a bit overwhelmed- it was strange to see her emote at all- and she went to straighten her blankets, hissing in pain as her thorn-bitten hands touched them. Everyone stopped immediately, and Kaede, the closest to her, reached forward and pulled them up for her.

“Just relax, okay?” she murmured with a gentle smile. “We’re happy to have you back. You may not recognize us right now, but I promise we’re friends.” Kirumi hesitantly nodded, letting her hands fall back onto the bed. 

“Whatever happened, I feel dreadful that I have to appear like this before you all… My sincerest apologies for being unable to fulfill my duties.” 

It was Tenko who spoke this time, immediately bristling, then hunching over to clutch at her stomach wound. “Ow- Don’t feel bad about it! I’m personally glad that you’re awake next instead of some degenerate male.”

“Next? Are you alright? I’m sorry, may I please have some clarification on the situation here?” she frowned, looking over the other people in the room. Her eyes landed on Ryoma, and she paused. “...You look familiar, but I cannot remember where you’re from.”

“Yeah, we’ve met,” he shrugged. He was smiling wider than he had in awhile. “Ryoma Hoshi. You’ve got some time before you remember what’s going on, but when ya do, know that I forgive you. I’ll leave the other part up to Rantaro, though.” Kirumi looked like she was going to ask who Rantaro was, but the green haired man raised his hand, and she shut her mouth again. She was frowning, but she somewhat relaxed against the pillows, seemingly accepting the situation at hand. 

Rantaro had hardly opened his mouth to speak when they heard a bloodcurdling scream from down the hall. It was high, and it sounded like it was pure agony, deep down in someone’s chest. The entire room fell dead silent, the good mood melting right away with the echo of the cry. It was quiet for a few moments, no panic, no rush, as it settled in for those who could recognize it.

“...That was Kokichi,” Rantaro mumbled, staring down at the bed. He had broken eye contact with Kirumi, who was looking around the room, significantly more startled than the rest of them by this situation. “We’ve been checking on him, right? No signs?”

“You said Tenko didn’t have any signs either, right?” Maki interjected. She was balling her fists up in the sheets, and her previous relief seemed to have faded into nothing but fury. “It’s just like him to wake up right when we’re-”

“Maki, it’s not his fault,” Shuichi stepped away from the bed, and from Maki. “We just have to determine who’s going to go over there and check on him. That didn’t sound good.” The room fell quiet once more, and for a moment, they all just looked between one another. They had all been filled in on what the leader had done, and none of them were too terribly happy about it, least of all Maki, having lived through it all. It’s not like Rantaro would have any idea of what to say there, though, and they had learned previously that Ryoma tended to be awkward when he was the one meeting someone after they woke up. It didn’t really matter what anyone’s reasoning was; at the crux of it, they could say whatever they wanted, but Shuichi could tell that none of them really wanted to bite that bullet. When he looked at Kaede, though, saw her opening her mouth, he decided to step in again. “I guess that means me, huh?” Kaede paused, looking over at him with her mouth half-open. Shuichi had told her what Kokichi had done to all of them towards the end of the game, and all the problems he had caused inbetween, and he was sure that she was questioning his motives now. “I, uh… knew him the longest. Maki and I, at least. It’ll probably be nice to see someone that he knew a little better, it’ll hopefully have a better impact when he gets his memories back.”

“Hmph. Better impact, he doesn’t deserve any of that,” Maki snorted, her head still down. No one argued with her, although Kaede looked like she wanted to. “I mean, we checked on him recently anyway, right? And there’s a nurse call button by his bed? None of us really need to rush down there or anything.”

“Yeah, but whose job was it to put the button there? He’s kinda broken,” Rantaro asked. The room went silent once again. “...I’ll take it that whoever had the job forgot to do it. Way to go, team. There’s still a chance that he woke up without any signs, though, I mean, Tenko did that.”

“There’s no way a degenerate male could have the same strength as me to wake up like that! How dare you compare me to him!” On a normal day, Tenko may have flipped Rantaro right into the ground, but she had learned previously that it hurt her more than it hurt the offender. That didn’t stop her from raising her arms up to try, though, but Shuichi interrupted at the first chance he got.

“Everyone, please don’t fight!” That didn’t get Tenko to stop, but she did slightly lower her arms, and she glanced over at him. He was acutely aware that all eyes in the room were suddenly on him again. “He’s still one of our classmates, and one of us has to check on him. He did bad things, but you all saw the state he was in, self inflicted or not. Have some humanity.” Hesitantly, Shuichi stepped away from the bed and started down the hallway, leaving the rest of his classmates behind. As much as he wished he could stay for the little get-together they had going on, he knew that no one else was going to handle it no matter how many protagonist-y speeches he gave. Besides, he had lost his edge when he no longer had to be the reluctant hero.

Kokichi’s room was dark and almost empty when Shuichi stepped into it. The blinds were closed, the lights were off, and the only real light filling the room was that of all the machines and monitors blinking behind the bed. Shuichi hadn’t been able to pick up what most of them meant, but he could tell that Kokichi’s heart rate was going insane. He looked absolutely pitiful; he was staring up at the ceiling, sniffling softly, and he was stuck in a full body cast. If he heard the door creak open, he didn’t react to it, nor did he react when Shuichi sat down on the bed beside him. Shuichi tried to find the right words, but they just weren’t coming out. He opened and closed his mouth several times before just settling on something. “Are you alright, Kokichi?”

There was silence for a moment. When Kokichi did speak, his voice sounded weak from a lack of use, or maybe from screaming. “...Shuichi?”

“You remember me already?” he turned to look down at him, and Kokichi didn’t meet his eyes. There was a dazed smirk on the leader’s face.

“Of course I do. Why wouldn’t I? I know everything, my network of informants told me.”

“Kokichi, how long have you been awake?” Kokichi paused at the question, taking a moment to think about it. Shuichi could practically see the gears turning in his head, trying to come up with some snappy response, but to his surprise, Kokichi just slumped into his confines.

“I don’t know. It was dark outside, a little bit darker than this. Maybe hours, maybe it’s been twenty minutes, but I can’t move, and it’s pissing me off, and it’s my own fault. I just remembered… everything, I guess.” 

“Is that what you screamed for?”

Kokichi swallowed, still staring up at the ceiling. His fingers twitched outside of the cast, tapping at the empty air. “...Yeah. That’s why I screamed. I don’t understand why I’m alive, or why this all hurts so much. I could hear you guys down the hall, too. All of it.”

“I’m sorry none of us were in here,” Shuichi felt himself pale a bit. He had heard all of it, right down to the silence whenever he asked who would go check on him. “Do you want an explanation or something?”

“Nah. Not right now. I’m not in the mood,” he muttered bitterly, shutting his eyes again. “Everything sucks, and this is awful.”

“I see,” Shuichi started to get up off the bed, which almost seemed to annoy Kokichi further. The smaller man opened one eye, looking up at him indignantly. 

“Well, I never said you could leave, either.”

“Wh-What?”

“Hello? Ultimate Supreme Leader? Sit down, that’s an order. I’m sure by some right I have the authority to say that,” he replied, shutting his eye again the second Shuichi sat back down. “There, and now you’ll stay there until I tell you that you can leave, and that will be… as soon as it’s most inconvenient for you.”

“I really hope you’re lying about that,” Shuichi frowned. Kokichi snickered, albeit in a wheezy sort of way. “It’s good to see that you’ve still got some spirit, at least.”

“Whatever. Your validation is thoroughly meaningless to me,” he sighed, and the both of them went quiet again. Shuichi had a dozen and a half questions to ask him about his motivations and virtually everything else, but he decided now wasn’t the time. He would let him heal first, and he was sure everyone else would want to get on him for things like that anyway. It isn’t what he needed right now. It was Kokichi who ended up speaking again. “...Thank you for being here, Shuichi.”

“Uh… you’re welcome. Feel better, okay?” 

Kokichi laughed again, significantly more tired this time. “Real bold of you to assume I was being genuine. You’ll never learn, will you?”

“...Right,” Shuichi sighed, reaching up and gently patting Kokichi on the head. The leader flinched, but quickly relaxed when he realized that Shuichi wasn’t going to hit him. “It’s okay to be scared. All of us are.”

“Leaders don’t get scared. I’ve never been scared in… in…” he yawned, “my life.” 

“Just get some rest, Kokichi. We’ll talk more when you’re ready.” Kokichi didn’t respond this time. A few minutes later, he was asleep again, as far as Shuichi could tell, but he didn’t get up. Eventually, others would come in and check on him, he’d quietly explain what was going on to them, and they’d leave, usually with a look of disdain for the man on the bed. Shuichi himself didn’t even know why he was there. Kokichi had been nothing but cruel, and he didn’t know what of the fifth trial had been truth and what had been a lie. As far as he knew, Kokichi was doing this as some form of torture for him… but he needed someone to start to forgive him. He likely never would, but no one else was going to take the first step either, and someone had to be the one to begin. They were all learning now, all healing, and what was the good in doing it alone?


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to mention beforehand that these have like, zero real chronology. I'm trying to post some of them in a specific order, sure, but sometimes I'll go back and write stuff I may have glossed over initially. If there's anything you'd like to see, I'd be thrilled to hear it, even if I don't end up going through with it! I'm sorry this one is a bit short, but I hope you all enjoy regardless!

If the students were to decide who felt the absolute worst about what they did in the killing game, blackened or just a general troublemaker, it had to be Gonta. He had woken up shortly after Kokichi; that hadn’t been anything special, just Gonta acting like his normal, sweet self despite the pain he was in, then breaking down when he got his memories back like most everyone else did. From the second he had gotten his memories back, though, the entomologist had been avoiding Kokichi like the plague. That wasn’t very hard, given that Kokichi’s current state left him generally confined to his room unless someone decided to push him somewhere else in the hospital. Gonta got roped into doing so occasionally, but he never said a word to him. He just walked straight ahead and stared, like the leader hadn’t spoken at all. 

That entire act was starting to get a little unnerving. They knew Gonta was likely taking this the hardest, but it didn’t make it any less unsettling when he, a big guy with a newly developed thousand-yard stare, pushed Kokichi around, desperately trying not to let his injuries get to him. He was covered in burns, and there was a still-healing stab wound through his abdomen, but the stings from the bugs seemed to have gone down fine. That much was good, at least, as was what seemed to be some sort of misguided attempt at recovery. Therapy seemed to be helping a bit, and he had apologized profusely to everyone that was awake over and over again, but he still seemed sort of… distant. He had developed somewhat of a fear of bugs from his execution, something that he once derived such joy from, and he was constantly stumbling over himself in an effort to be a gentleman while he was clearly still suffering and struggling to so much as  _ be.  _

It wasn’t until Miu started showing signs of waking up that Gonta’s mood shifted a bit. Miu wasn’t too terrible on the injuries front; in fact, physically, she had no damages. A simulation inside a simulation had made sure of that; she had come out of the Neo World Program dead of shock alone, and it seemed the same thing translated into the actual real world too. The doctors had expected her to make a full recovery and wake up from the start, but it didn’t feel real until they noticed those telltale signs in the inventor. Gonta was easily the most excited, and Kokichi the most pissed. He still wasn’t pleased at her murder attempt, and he and Gonta parted ways for a bit because of that disagreement, which was likely for the better for now.

Regardless of all of that, Gonta seemed significantly less stoic now. He had attached himself to Miu’s bed for as many hours a day as the hospital staff would allow him to be there, and then some. His classmates were sure that the staff knew; Gonta wasn’t exactly good at sneaking, but it was really the only thing giving the entomologist comfort by this point, having lost most of his faith in himself and the interest that he used to hold so dear. He would sit at her bedside for hours, just talking about his day and what she had missed and whatever else came to mind. He apologized a lot, too, for hurting her and whatever else, even if he didn’t really know what he was doing then, nor did he remember doing it at all. The remorse he felt was real, though, and boy, was he feeling it accordingly. Sometimes, he even fell asleep in her room, collapsed onto the foot of her bed and waking up with a spluttered ‘Gonta sorry!’ 

Today was day six of Gonta sitting in Miu’s room, just talking until he tired himself out. It was early afternoon, and he had already been in there for hours, the door standing wide open. Shuichi and Maki could hear the whole conversation as they had tea together; Shuichi had left Kaede to rest, and he had managed to get Maki away from the still comatose Kaito’s bedside to take care of herself for a little bit. They sat across from each other in the common room, listening to Gonta talk about a particularly interesting floor tile he had seen in the hallway that morning while they idly sipped at their tea.

“...and that’s about all Gonta saw today! Gonta was here most of the time, with you,” he sounded almost sheepish, Shuichi noted, setting his cup down once Gonta launched into his fifth apology of the day. “Gonta feels like he should say…”

Maki spoke up, slightly drowning out the entomologist’s voice from the other room. “When do you think he’s going to calm down on the apologies?”

“I think he feels really bad about it. I would,” Shuichi shrugged. “It’s a difficult situation.” He paused, waiting to hear the end of Gonta’s apology.

“...So what Gonta’s saying is, Gonta real sorry for hurting Miu, and Gonta hopes to make up for it when you wake up.”

To Shuichi’s response, there was a rustling, and then a sound like a pillow being pulled over someone’s head, right before Miu’s voice pierced through the air. “God, I don’t know what the hell I’m forgivin’ you for, but if you’d just shut the fuck up and let me sleep, I’d forgive ya a hell of a lot faster!” 

Gonta, in fact, did not shut up and let Miu sleep after that. He started crying quite loudly, apologizing repeatedly and alerting just about the entire floor of the situation. Rantaro came running, as he usually did, and some of the others followed shortly after. Shuichi chuckled softly as he heard Miu’s annoyed grumbles from the other room, then the curses that left her mouth when more people started coming in. “He’ll burn himself out after this, I’m guessing.”

“Or not,” Maki added. “Should we go in there?”

“Let’s just…” at that moment, the crying seemed to start anew once again. As much as he loved Gonta and Miu, there was no way in hell he was getting in the middle of that. “We’ll wait here for a little bit. We’ll have plenty of time to reconnect later, I’m sure.” 


	4. Chapter 4

When Maki had woken up fairly early, she had assumed there would be no real chronology to how everyone woke up. Tenko had woken up second, and she was the sixth person to die. The injuries also seemed to have no indicator on who would wake up when; Korekiyo was covered in third and fourth degree burns, and he was supposedly up and moving around, even if no one had really seen him. Foolishly, Maki had developed hope that maybe, just maybe, Kaito would be awake soon after she was, but she slowly learned that she had been in the wrong for that.

She watched damn near everyone else come back, or she saw them mere minutes after they did. The confusion, the joy of her classmates, the recollection of the killing game, and the start of the healing process all became routine. Day in and day out, they woke up, they recovered, they healed, and they left those who didn’t behind. At least, that’s how Maki saw it. The two most recent people to wake up were Angie and Himiko within hours of one another, and that had been days ago. All that was left were Keebo and Kaito, and Maki was starting to get impatient. Well, more impatient than she had been. 

What was even more infuriating is that he had been showing signs for weeks now. He had been showing signs long before even Miu had, and yet, he was still dead asleep. Not infrequently did she hear the doctors step out of Kaito’s room, leaving the both of them in there, and start talking about what would happen if Kaito or Keebo never woke up. They had been down for the longest, after all, and everyone else had woken up within a week of showing true signs of life again. All over again, things started to feel hopeless as she sat at Kaito’s bedside, just waiting for him to wake up. Today was one of those days, and one of the rougher ones, too. She actually ended up speaking to Kokichi today, and it was incredibly frustrating for her; how dare he talk to her, and what on this stupid, miserable planet gave him the right to wake up before him? No matter what his intentions had been, or how she knew someone would still try to give him the benefit of the doubt, Kaito still might never come back because of his actions, and there were all the problems he had caused before that, and there was just  _ him.  _ What an asshole. 

Maki was in Kaito’s room, as per the usual, staring right off into space with the only soundtrack to her thoughts being the hum of machines and the incessant beeping that invariably meant hospitals and injury. Normally, it would be driving her up the wall, putting her entirely on edge, but she had gotten used to it now. Her head was buzzing in the most mundane way possible, so very close to slipping from consciousness in the chair right next to the bed. She heard a hitch of breath next to her, but she didn’t bother looking. She had learned and been disappointed by that old trick several times; it didn’t necessarily mean he had woken up. A subtle movement of his hand caught her eye, though, and what made her jolt out of her chair is when that hand raised up and rubbed at Kaito’s eyes as he groaned. “What in the-” he paused, looking over at Maki. Their gazes locked on one another, Maki too bewildered and Kaito too injured to move, respectively, and Kaito’s eyes went wide. “Woah.”

Maki’s whole body trembled right in her seat. He wasn’t exactly the picture of strength at the moment; he had a respirator for the after effects of the sickness from the game, burns all over his body, and a medley of broken bones from the rocket crash, but his eyes shone just as bright as she remembered, and he was here. He was back. She wanted to find the right words, she had been thinking this over for weeks now, what she could possibly say to him after all of that. She felt her jaw open and close a few times, and her eyes welling up with tears, the astronaut in front of her cocking his head to the side before Maki wrapped her arms around him and buried her face into his shoulder. “Never do that again, you idiot!”

“...Alright!” his voice sounded pained and tired, with a mix of shock slipping through it. His arms carefully wrapped around Maki, and she sank right into them to the best of her ability while trying not to hurt him. “Could you remind me of what I did and who you are? Just so I don’t do it again, y’know.”

“I’m not the best person for that,” hesitantly, Maki pulled away from him. “You’ll remember. There was… a crash, I guess, you got hurt, and I’m Maki.”

“A crash, huh?” Kaito brought his arms up behind his head, or at least, he tried, hitting a certain point, wincing, and then lowering his arms again before looking at Maki again. He just stared for a second, and Maki could practically see the gears turning in his head, before something seemed to click. “Holy shit.”

“You remembered that fast, huh?” Maki’s heart sank in her chest, and she went to reach for him again, but then she noticed he looked… excited? People had various reactions to remembering the killing game, but none had ever looked very happy about it. She started to lower her hand, but Kaito grabbed it in both of his.

“I did it, didn’t I?” When Maki didn’t answer, he continued. “I went to space, and the ship came down with me in it, right? That’s what happened?” He paused once again to gasp. “And you’re my wife?”

Maki sat there for a moment, staring at him, stunned. She didn’t know what she had been expecting, but it certainly wasn’t that. However, with a shudder, she recalled his execution; he wasn’t too terribly far off in every right, it seemed. “Uh… some of that is kind of correct.”

“Hell yeah it is, I knew it!” Kaito beamed. Right after, he propped himself up on his pillows, and with no small effort, he leaned in closer to Maki. He let go of her hand, and one hand trailed up to her face. She sat there, frozen, as his index finger went under her now too-long bangs and raised them up so they were out of her eyes. She had neglected to get them cut again after she woke up, and she had a bit of a hard time seeing, but now Kaito’s face was crystal clear and mere inches from hers. “Serious theory, Maki. I need you to either be honest with me or take me seriously when I say this.”

“Fine. Go ahead.” She could feel her cheeks flushing, and her heart beating just a little bit faster.

“Did I go to Mars and come back with you as my hot alien wife?” his tone was very above a low whisper, and she couldn’t hold back a snort, then a little bit of a laugh.

“No. Sorry.” He didn’t look all that disappointed when she opened her eyes again, in fact, he was smiling even wider than before, and he winked at her. 

“Gotcha. Your secret’s safe with me. No one with a laugh like that would go for me if I wasn’t the first person they ever saw. I mean, I’m pretty awesome, but c’mon, man,” he pulled away again, leaning back against the pillows. Her heart fluttered in her chest, but she quickly pushed that feeling down. She could handle it later.

“I expected you to be delusional when you first woke up, but you’ve honestly exceeded my expectations.” 

“Maki, I don’t know much about you yet, but clearly, you know enough about me that you should have guessed the Luminary of the Stars is always, always going to exceed your expectations… wait a minute, was that an insult?” 

“It was.”

“Sheesh, Maki, you’re blunt. I’m all banged up in a hospital bed, can’t even breathe right for some reason, and you come in here and make fun of me when I don’t have the brain power to think of a good comeback?” He sounded serious, and for a moment, Maki was prepared to either shut down or defend herself, feeling her cheeks go all red again and her shoulders start to raise… but he smiled. It was as stunning as it was annoying. “I’m just messin’ with ya, ease up. You’re cute when you blush, though.”

“I can’t wait until you get your memory back and you realize the weight of what you’re saying,” she huffed, slouching back down onto herself. 

“Ouch. Not as much as the broken ribs, but ouch… you’re gonna stick around, right?” he asked. She nodded, but he continued right on anyway. “You mentioned something about ‘again’ and remembering, and not being the right person to explain something to me- I think you’re perfectly capable, but that’s beside the point. I don’t really get what’s going on, but I guess it’ll come to me, if you’re so certain… I’m just glad I got to go to space before whatever happened went down, y’know? I don’t know if I’ll be able to like this.”

“...Yeah. I’m sorry,” Maki lowered her head. She wanted to be there for him, but god, it was going to suck whenever he remembered just how he went to space. It would be awful to see the disappointment on his face. Her mouth seemed to move without her control. “Could I sit up there with you for a while?”

“Hell yeah you can, get up here,” Kaito replied, maybe a bit too fast, slowly raising up an arm for her. Maki pushed it down again, then climbed into bed next to him. Stubborn as ever, that didn’t stop Kaito from carefully wrapping his arm around her and dropping his head onto her shoulder. “I’m sure you don’t have anything to apologize for, and if you did, eh. I’ve probably already forgiven you for it anyway.”

Maki chuckled softly, trying her best not to lean into him too much out of fear of hurting his injuries. He had always been so gentle and patient with her, and although this wasn’t the circumstance she ever wanted it to be, she was more than happy to return the favor now. “Of course you have.”

It took Kaito a while to get his memories back. Not nearly as long as it did for him to wake up, but he went a full 36 hours with no results. Maki hardly left him alone during that time, only leaving to use the bathroom, eat, or get Kaito something that he wanted (that last one happened fairly often, but she couldn’t bring herself to be annoyed). People would come and go, visiting and saying hi to Kaito, glad that he had woken up. Shuichi was almost as excited as Maki was, and Kaito sans memories seemed to like Shuichi just as much as he had when they had befriended one another in the game. At least that felt normal. The only reason she did end up having to leave was therapy. They had all ended up talking to a therapist at one point or another with varying results, and all of them had scheduled times that they were supposed to talk to one. The only one that had really been non compliant with this was Rantaro, who would often pick one of his ‘more traumatized’ classmates at random and send them in for his session instead. They knew it pissed the staff off to no end, but really, there wasn’t any convincing him. It was Maki’s time slot about 37 and a half hours into Kaito being awake, and neither of them had been super thrilled to part, but Kaito had assured Maki with a shit-eating grin that he would ‘still be there when she got back.’ What a nerd.

Therapy hadn’t been easy. She didn’t like thinking about the game, nor the impact on her, and it always left a hazy fog hanging over her head, even if they had made some progress. She would be happy just to sit back and ignore it ever happened, but apparently, that was considered avoidant and not super healthy. Whatever. She stepped out of the office, her usual ‘stay out of my way’ scowl plastered on her face, but before she managed to turn away from the door, she heard a set of wheels rolling right down the hall. “MAKI ROLL!”

Maki whipped right around, and lo and behold, there was Kaito, propelling himself down the hallway at top speeds. She didn’t know whether to run at him or yell at him, that idiot shouldn’t be out of bed right now, let alone wheeling himself around, but it didn’t really matter what she chose, because he was slamming into her seconds later, arms around her waist, knocking her back into the door in a tight hug. “Kaito, what are you-”

“Maki Roll!” She was suddenly aware that he was absolutely bawling. “I can’t believe you survived and took care of me this whole time, I’m so proud of you and you’re such a cool sidekick and  _ holy shit  _ you said you fell for me and I’m so lucky and oh my god, I missed you so muuuuch!”

“Tch- c’mon, don’t do that,” Maki felt herself tearing up, but she carefully hugged Kaito right back. “You’re going to hurt yourself, or you’re going to make me cry. Do you wanna die?”

Kaito sniffled. “There’s my girl. Sidekick. Cool ass survivor ex-assassin maybe-girlfriend. I knew you could do it, you’re so fucking awesome, Maki Roll.”

“You’re so dumb, Kaito, stop saying stuff like that,” she felt a few tears slip down her face as she pulled away, but she ignored them. Weakness could be afforded at a time like this. “You shouldn’t be out of bed, not for anything.”

Kaito’s face was all red and blotchy, and he was still trying to pull himself together, but a dopey grin spread across his face. “Yeah, the burns are telling me that much, that hurt like a bitch. Shuichi kinda gave me a rundown of what happened after I… y’know, but I wanna hear it from you, and I wanna talk. Can we?”

“Obviously,” she got on the other side of the wheelchair and started pushing him and the various attachments he had managed to drag down the hall back to his room. Kaito leaned back ever so slightly to look at her, and for once, he was the one blushing.

“And, uh… I’m sorry for thinking you were my hot martian wife. That was disrespectful. You’re pretty, not my wife, and I think you’d be from Mercury anyway.” Maki grinned, wiping her eyes, and that earned just as broad of a smile from Kaito as just about anything else she did would. “Heh. Made you smile again.”

Maki rolled her eyes, but regardless, she was thoroughly endeared. It wouldn’t hit her until later just how lucky she was to actually have him back, but for now, after all this time, he was here. He was safe. Most importantly, though, as far as either of them were concerned, he was hers, and they had some lost time to make up for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I wrote this I legitimately asked myself if martian was a slur against aliens before realizing that martians are in fact, not real, so there's that.


	5. Chapter 5

It had started innocently enough. 

Once Kokichi had woken up, he made it his absolute goal to remind people just what he had tried to do for them in the final round. He had given those who weren’t there various stories that made him out to be much more heroic than being crushed under a hydraulic press, but those all got cleared up fairly quickly. Regardless, because of it, he demanded everyone else’s attention. How it usually went was he would ask the morning nurses to leave his door open, he would call the first person he saw in, and they would be the one designated to push him around all day. He had even managed to find a way for Kaito to push him around using his own wheelchair. His dedication both to move and to reintegrate were impressive, but when people were trying to heal themselves, it was getting on their nerves. 

Most of them felt bad for him, at least a little. They didn’t know why he had to lie about it, but it was very clear that after an incident like that, he was badly craving attention. Most all of them had taken to someone’s company as a comfort, but they were all still a little wary about him. A couple people had almost forgiven him, but then again, he made it almost hard to do so. Whatever walls he had built up were up high, and it seemed that those relationships weren’t necessarily ready to form on either side. He needed the attention, though, and not everyone was willing to give.

The game had started with Gonta. There was a small group sitting in the common room, as per usual, and Gonta was still quite wary around Kokichi after everything that had happened. He was so terrified of being manipulated or hurt by him again, even if Miu had forgiven him already (Miu was trying to help Gonta get his confidence back up as well- they had become pretty good, albeit chaotic, friends, much to the dismay of the rest of the group). Everyone watched as he carefully, carefully tried to sneak past Kokichi’s room… and he made it. Kokichi either didn’t notice him or didn’t care to say anything, but the light from the TV could be seen reflecting in the hallway, and a couple of them had learned how annoyed he got whenever he was trying to sleep if the TV was left on. Gonta had successfully managed to creep through the hall, completely undetected by the leader, and it gave a couple of them an idea.

  
Begrudgingly, they wanted to be Kokichi’s friend. They wanted everyone to be friends once they could get over it, or at least all of them acted like they did when Kaede brought it up again. He had hurt them, but he deserved a reasonable shot like everyone else, and if some people had managed to forgive their killers, then they could learn to forgive a liar, too. However, the current system with whoever passed his room first wasn’t working. Being dragged into pushing Kokichi around all day just made them dread doing it, so they came up with a system. Every day, someone new would be the one to take Kokichi around. It didn’t make them any less annoyed by him in the short time that they had it, but it sort of incentivized it and hopefully sped up the process. Rantaro had been the one to discuss it with his therapist, and she approved, so the staff was in on it too. People could volunteer to cover different shifts if they wanted to, but otherwise, you participated in the game.

The game went as thus: if Kokichi called you into his room to wheel him around, that was it. You were his for the day, and the schedule would be void for the day. That person would get the day off, and it would go to the next person the next day. Therefore, in order to keep it to your days alone, you had to dodge Kokichi like Gonta did. Kokichi never seemed to catch on that they were dodging him, and this part they didn’t run by any of the hospital staff, they just started playing, and they had one hell of a time with it.

There were a few exemptions to the game. Maki, when they had first started setting the chart up, said that she wasn’t ready to try and befriend him. The wounds were too fresh and too deep, and she was allowed not to participate in neither the game nor the schedule. Kokichi had tried to call her in several times, but she just ignored him and kept walking. Tenko was also allowed to sit out after she had one shift with Kokichi and almost tried to flip the leader out of bed entirely (read: she was forcibly removed from the poster board, and Angie crossed out her name and put a frowny face next to it). She still played the game, though, mostly for her own enjoyment, but she still wouldn’t push Kokichi around if he caught her. Korekiyo and Tsumugi still didn’t socialize with the group, and Keebo was still asleep, so they had an out as well. Kaito was urged not to join on either side, but he stubbornly insisted that he could get Kokichi around on his shifts and dodge him, even in a wheelchair. 

When they started, they had no idea how difficult it would actually end up being. Kokichi seemed to have some ridiculous senses or something, because more often than not, someone would get caught before the schedule could go into effect for the day. Shuichi was notoriously bad, and he usually ended up with Kokichi at least two times a week. The only reason he didn’t every day was Kaede, who had gotten pretty decent. They’d spend the night together sometimes (and vehemently deny it in the mornings), and her room was past Kokichi’s, so he was a little bit safer on those days. Kaede herself was a little clumsy, but she had gotten the hang of it, and she had even taken to being around Kokichi of her own free will on occasion. More often than not, Kaede, Shuichi, and Kokichi were all together, spending time with one another while Kokichi berated Kaede and Shuichi for doing ‘gross couple stuff’ around him. 

  
The game ran for three weeks before they had to stop. People had been getting all sorts of creative, however, in the process, they had been getting reckless. Miu had been building gadgets to get herself past, often taking apart hospital equipment to do so, and Himiko had started throwing ‘smoke bombs’ full of glitter outside of Kokichi’s door before she ran past so she wouldn’t be caught. The cherry on the cake, though, was when Kaito had managed to get himself cleared to be in a wheelchair, and, in an attempt to wheel past Kokichi’s room at top speed, flung himself out of the wheelchair, flat on his face, and slid several feet down the hall. Needless to say, the medical staff was furious, and the game was stopped immediately, even if Kaito only had a bruise on his cheek from the entire ordeal.

Sure, they were bummed about their game being over, but after what Ryoma had managed to do a day later, it wasn’t like they could top it. The tennis player hadn’t gotten the message, having been in therapy at the time, and people were bound to forget, but they hadn’t expected quite a show. Ryoma had managed to get his IV pole into the hallway, climb on top of it, balance himself at the top, and surf past Kokichi’s room on the top of the pole, all with the cat whom he had recently been reunited with held tightly in his arms. This was right during breakfast, when everyone had taken to sitting and dining together in the common room, and they all watched this go down after previously being engaged in a conversation about who had played the game the best, absolutely dumbfounded. They sat there for a moment, stunned, as Ryoma came in, setting his cat down and letting it run off as if nothing had happened, entirely nonchalant. “...Why are you all staring at me like that?”

Rantaro was the one that broke the silence, setting his juice down with a sigh. “Fuck it, guys, I think we have a winner.” There was a murmur of agreement, and it was with that finale that their little game died. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gotta have some humor somewhere


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Amaguji nation I'm so sorry it took me this long 😔😔😔

Rantaro was having a hard time faulting anyone for what they did in the killing game. Having been there the shortest amount of time, he didn’t get to experience the pain firsthand with everyone else. He had forgiven Kaede when they thought she had been the one to kill him, and he watched just about everyone else forgive their killers, too. Tsumugi was an exception, obviously, but there was one other person that had yet to rejoin.

Rantaro had liked Korekiyo for the time that he had been alive. The anthropologist was kind, if not a bit on the odd side, and he was certainly someone that he could see himself befriending. It was an absolute shock to find out that not only had he killed two people, but he was a serial killer with some sort of sister complex (not his words). It had made Tenko even more jumpy than usual for days after Korekiyo had woken up, but Korekiyo had hardly left his room since then. They would occasionally see him drift a few feet down the hall to get to his therapist’s office and back, but other than that, he had all of his meals delivered to his room, and he was refusing any and all visitors. 

Rantaro still hadn’t managed to wrap his head around it. No matter how unnerved everyone seemed, he just couldn’t believe that Korekiyo was capable of something like that. Tenko had already sworn that she would kick his ass if he ever came out of his room, but for some reason, Rantaro wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. There had to be some sort of fucked up power imbalance with his family, and he was getting the help he needed now. If they were all going to try to be friends, they needed to give everyone a chance.

He started out with books. He picked up several books on anthropology and philosophy from the hospital’s library, sitting down and flipping through them over the course of about a week. Rantaro had never considered himself much of an academic, but with the head injury, screens were out of the question, and it’s not like he could go out and adventure again just yet, even if he was fairly healed. He did end up taking interest in some of the things in the books, leaving post-it notes on the margins for comments and questions. The day he finished all of them, he set them and the unfinished pack of sticky notes outside of Korekiyo’s door. He noticed the next morning as he begrudgingly went into his therapy session that the stack was entirely untouched, much to his dismay, and he gave a light knock on the door as he passed. He heard no reply from inside, but when he went to head back to his room, the books were gone. He could only hope that Korekiyo was the one to pick them up.

No one saw Korekiyo for several days after that. Either they just missed him, or something was up, but Rantaro was starting to get worried until the books suddenly reappeared outside of Korekiyo’s door. The sticky notes were gone, but Rantaro could see that pack and more sticking out between the pages of them. Finally, some kind of answer! He picked up the entire stack, carrying them to his own room.

There must have been more on the post-its than was written in the books themselves. He compiled everything that was linked together into stacks, only to find that Korekiyo had written entire essays or personal stories on some of these subjects in tiny, neat handwriting. He even countered some of the points Rantaro made and asked him about his own experiences with certain places and subjects, and by the end of it, Rantaro felt as though he knew him a whole hell of a lot better, as well as the topics in all of the books. He was up for a good, long while responding to each and every one of them, a notebook this time instead of post-its, and he set that stack outside the door the next morning. That one was picked up much faster, all his notes responded to within a day, and the pile returned to its place in the hall. They fell into a rhythm like this for a little while, going back and forth with conversation and notes without ever having to be face to face. It felt a little impersonal, but it was a start, wasn’t it?

While he was waiting for his turn with the notebook one day, Rantaro managed to find and finish another philosophy book. He had been skimming some of them in his spare time, but this one in particular especially pertained to a recent conversation he and Korekiyo had been having, so, post-its and all, he took it to Korekiyo’s room the second he was finished with it. He knelt down to set it there, and, to his surprise, the door clicked open.

He looked up immediately, and Rantaro’s gaze was met with a pair of piercing golden eyes. Korekiyo was staring down at him like a deer in headlights, books and notebook clenched tightly in his hand. He was covered from neck to toe in bandages, an IV still attached to his arm. He was wearing a hospital gown, nothing like his old uniform, and a paper mask. Long, green hair fell well past where it used to be, and Rantaro slowly stood up, holding eye contact with him the whole time. “So, uh-”

Before he managed to even get the sentence out, Korekiyo shoved the stack in his hands and slammed the door in his face. Rantaro stood there for a moment, entirely shell-shocked, before just brushing it right off. He didn’t need to make him feel any weirder than he must have already “I found a new book! I’m leaving it by the door and walking away immediately, alright? Let me know when you get to it!” And with that, he did exactly as he said. It wasn’t until he was a little further down the hall that he heard the door slide open or that he felt a pair of eyes on the back of his neck. He ignored them, listening to the anthropologist shuffle out of his room, grab the book, and hurry back inside. It was outside the door the next day, completely annotated, no mention of the day before. That was satisfying enough for Rantaro, and, as usual, he read them and replied, sending them right back to him.

It was two days before he saw Korekiyo again. The books weren’t placed out again in that time either, which was weird enough for them with the schedule they had developed by now. In that time, he had read another book and thought up a few more questions, specifically to go back to his door. He didn’t really know what came over him, but this time, when he went up to Korekiyo’s door, he knocked. When there was no immediate reply, he just started speaking. “I got another one. I know I just gave you one the other day, but I thought you might like this one, too, so I brought it for you.”

To his surprise, after a moment’s silence, the door opened. Korekiyo was standing there, the door barely cracked, looking like something that may have been out of a horror movie if Rantaro didn’t trust him completely. Rantaro’s heart stopped, trying to keep his expression blank. Just a slight glance told him that Korekiyo was just as nervous as he was, and he definitely didn’t want to scare him off. Korekiyo cleared his throat before speaking, his voice soft and a little bit creaky. “Would you like to come in?”

“I would, thank you for the invitation!” Rantaro smiled, as invitingly as he possibly could, and he stepped inside once Korekiyo moved out of the way. The anthropologist went right back to bed once the door was shut, and Rantaro took the chair at the foot of his bed, flipping it around so that he could lean on the back. He noticed a tube of red lipstick on the nightstand, but he saw no sign of Korekiyo’s uniform. He held the book to Korekiyo once he had settled into bed once more, and he took it from him, starting to leaf through the pages immediately. The room fell into silence, and despite having never really spoken, it felt companionable, safe. There was no need for them to speak, it wasn’t awkward, and Korekiyo didn’t seem bothered by Rantaro’s eyes on him. It may have been minutes, may have been hours, but Korekiyo eventually did speak up while Rantaro was midway through zoning right out.

“Why?”

“Why, what?” his eyes refocused, and he looked back up at Korekiyo. The book was clenched tightly in his hands, he could see that much by the way one of the pages was crumpling, and he had begun to shake.

“Why are you trying to befriend me after what I’ve done?” He must have decided he didn’t want to ruin the book, because he shut it and carefully set it aside. “You must know of what I’ve done, for whom I’ve done it, and I’ve been told repeatedly that I’m both a victim and an assailant. Neither reality is pleasant, and I cannot deny that in my pursuits, I have harmed others. I’m still trying to come to terms with it, I had accepted that it may just be her and I once again, so… why?”

“Can I come up on the bed?”

“I don’t see why you would want to, but I don’t mind.” Having been given Korekiyo’s permission, Rantaro climbed up onto the bed and sat across from him. The anthropologist still looked visibly on edge. “You didn’t answer my question. We’ve been discussing moral dilemmas for a while now, face the one in front of you.”

“That’s a little melodramatic, don’t you think? You’re still a person, we wanna get along with you. We’re all a little fucked up. I mean, Ryoma killed some people, and we still love him fine. Why not you?”

“...My therapist keeps insisting that Sister was bad for me, however, she seems to disagree. I don’t know who to believe anymore, but neither seem to think that I am equipped to reintegrate into common society, or even among you all. I understand that what I did was wrong now, and that I may have been… victimized, but I can still hear her. It’s miserable, and yet I cannot bring myself to cope in the way that I normally would, by interacting and analyzing humanity and the world around me.” They both fell silent for a moment, only for Rantaro to reach out towards him. Korekiyo didn’t flinch, and when Rantaro’s hands got close to his face, he only nodded. Rantaro let his hands rest on either cheek, the anthropologist relaxing into his touch, if only a little bit, and shutting his eyes.

Rantaro ran his thumb gently along Korekiyo’s cheekbone. “Whose idea was it to separate the anthropologist from humanity?” he murmured, letting Korekiyo sink into the minimal contact. “Poor thing…”

“I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but you should likely stop. I haven’t earned it.”

“What makes you think you have to earn it?” Rantaro didn’t take his hands away, nor did Korekiyo pull away. “We’re healing. We’re all working on getting better, and when we say we want to be friends with everyone, we mean everyone, alright? You’re realizing that what you did was wrong, among other things, I’d bet, and that’s a great place to start. I’m sure whatever apology you’ve got cooked up in that head of yours is gonna bring someone a little closure, alright? Even if it’s not you, it’s a victim. Doesn’t have to be today. Just give yourself a little bit more credit, okay?”

“I don’t…” he began, trailing off. He looked like he was trying to find the right words, but he eventually settled on putting his hands on top of Rantaro’s and holding them right where they were. “Please don’t leave.” 

“I didn’t plan on it. I’ll stay here as long as you need me to, okay?” Korekiyo didn’t answer, but the sentiment hung in the air. They both just knew.

The back and forth of books and notes turned into actual face-to-face time shortly after that. They would sit in Korekiyo’s room, having discussions about whatever they had most recently gotten into for hours until they realized that the sun had gone down and they had been absentmindedly talking in the dark for god knows how long. Sometimes, the conversations would drift into stories from their respective travels, which enamored the both of them to no end every time without fail. On rare occasions, Korekiyo would let slip something about his past or what was going on with how he was healing. Rantaro had managed to piece together that Sister was a bit less active than she used to be, and that the feeling of being alone scared him. He learned that he initially didn’t understand what he did wrong, what with the context of the situation, but whenever he did, his head was in absolute turmoil, and in order to try to ease that a bit, he just locked himself in his room. He was lonely, he was stressed, and Rantaro had started to remedy that over time. Occasionally, the topic of integrating into the group and apologizing came up, but it was usually quickly dropped. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to, but that Korekiyo looked like he was going to tear himself in half whenever the conversation went a little too far. It was a topic for a later date.

It was soon after that when Rantaro added Korekiyo to ‘the schedule.’ Not the Kokichi one- that one was still running, but he wasn’t ready for that- but the one that Rantaro had established in his own head. He had figured out which ones of his classmates had it the worst on the trauma from the killing game, and he would take them to his therapy sessions. He would send them to the room, and then just never show up. He didn’t feel like he needed it, and he hadn’t attended a single one after the first one, even if it was really pissing the therapy staff off. He was helping people, though, so he couldn’t bring himself to care too terribly much. Today, it was Korekiyo’s turn.  
He walked right into Korekiyo’s room, a little bit of pep in his step. “Hey, bestie, happy Tuesday!” 

“Good morning, Rantaro,” Korekiyo replied, hardly looking up from the notebook in his lap. “I fear there may be something we need to discuss.”

“Oh, man, did you hear about the therapy thing? Like, I know I talk about self improvement, it’s kinda hypocritical, but-” 

“I think I’m ready to try to speak to people again. I would like to apologize to my victims.”

“...Oh,” Rantaro cocked his head to the side, going to the edge of Korekiyo’s bed and sitting beside him. “You’re ready for that?”

“I don’t know if I’ll ever be entirely ready, but I’ve talked about it with the staff, and we have come to the agreement that it may be a good idea.”

“Awesome, Kiyo, I’m proud of you!” Rantaro beamed at him, and Korekiyo looked a little bit less worried as he did. “Do you need anything from me for that?”

“...I was wondering if you could be there with me. Now would work, or we could wait until it’s more convenient for you.”

“Nope. No time like the present,” Rantaro stood right up, holding a hand out to Korekiyo. The anthropologist took it without thinking. “I was planning on sending you in for my therapy session, but this is better. C’mon, I saw Angie painting in the common room on my way over here.” Korekiyo looked a bit startled for a moment as he stood, but he let Rantaro take him out of the room without any protest. As he stepped away from the bed, he grabbed the notebook and held it tightly in his hand. Korekiyo trailed behind him, head down, barely peering over his mask at his surroundings as Rantaro walked him down the hall. It was mostly empty- it was afternoon, and people tended to stick to themselves or their rooms after lunch, but there Angie was in the common room, as promised, a massive canvas sitting at her feet as she painted away.

Angie had been healing quite well. Her injuries weren’t terrible, and apparently, art had worked out perfectly fine as a start to therapy for her. She was as open and bubbly as usual, and she hardly looked shocked when the two of them walked in. “Rantaro, Kiyo! Come here for a second, I need more eyes.”

Korekiyo, on the other hand, seemed incredibly shocked, but really couldn’t do anything other than follow Rantaro to the edge of Angie’s painting. “Angie. It’s… good to see you again.” It was then that Rantaro decided wholeheartedly to sit this one out unless Korekiyo or Angie needed him, still holding his hand, but electing not to say a word. 

“And you as well! Sit down, sit down,” she patted the space beside her, and Korekiyo hesitantly sunk down into the spot. Angie snapped her fingers, and Korekiyo looked over at her, eyes wide and panicked from what Rantaro could see. The artist just stared him dead in the face for a second, tapping her brush against her knee. “Mmm… Thank you! That is all, Rantaro, come here.”

“I thought you said you needed more eyes.”

“I do, as references,” she picked up her palette while Rantaro was sliding over to sit next to Korekiyo. The painting was, in fact, covered with eyes, he noticed as he got closer to it. “Rantaro, would you say more of a sunflower or a goldenrod?”

“Goldenrod,” he replied. 

“Mmm, Atua says sunflower. Sorry,” she hummed, and she went right back to painting. Rantaro felt Korekiyo start shaking beside him. He glanced down at the notebook Korekiyo had set in his lap, and he could tell what it was instantly as he started reading it. The anthropologist had written a whole apology speech, and from what Rantaro could see, it took up an entire page; from what Rantaro knew of Korekiyo, it was more than that. 

“Angie, I feel as though there is an apology to be had between us,” Korekiyo began, eyes down on the paper. The anthropologist stalled after the very first line, hand quaking over the page before tensing and coming to rest on it. “Why aren’t you mad at me?”

“Oh?” Angie didn’t look up from her painting, instead continuing with one of the pairs of eyes. “Why would I be?” 

“I hurt you. It wasn’t personal, but it was done out of my own motives and you still had to experience death because of it. I made a mockery of your art in your own sanctum, and we didn’t know that it would end up being of little consequence in the end. You have every right to be furious with me, to yell in my face, to inflict that pain back, do you not? Do I not deserve retribution in the name of those I have harmed?”

Angie paused, looking back over at him from her painting. Her eyes scanned over him momentarily, and she shrugged. “The burns are punishment enough. If Atua wills it so, there will be divine retribution, and if not, you’ve suffered enough. Who am I to punish you?”

“My victim?”

“Weren’t we all Monokuma’s victims?” she reached out and gently patted him on the cheek, smiling. Korekiyo flinched as she did, but that seemed lost on her. “It’ll be okay! You’re forgiven.”

“I… thank you. I sincerely apologize again, but your forgiveness is appreciated more than you could possibly understand.” The relief in Korekiyo’s voice was palpable, and Rantaro could have sworn that months worth of tension melted off his shoulders, just like that.

“Of course! No problems. You may leave if you want to, I’m not interested in talking much while I work.” And just like that, she was right back into her work. Korekiyo was bewildered for a moment, but muttered a quick goodbye as Rantaro helped him to his feet. Rantaro echoed him, and he walked him right back to his room in silence, shutting the door behind them before immediately wrapping his arms around Korekiyo in the gentlest way he possibly could.

“Holy shit! I think that went really well! I mean, like, you’re the one whose opinion matters on if it went well or not, but I think it was perfect! I’m so proud of you!” Korekiyo still looked a little bit shaken, but the relief was still just as evident.

“I-I went off script, but yes, she seems just about as kind as I remember her…”

“Yeah, I didn’t expect Angie of all people to hold too much of a grudge. Now, we could go talk to Tenko, and probably Himiko by extension, but we don’t have to.” He pulled away from Korekiyo, taking the anthropologist’s hand once again.

“I think that may be enough interaction for one day. Angie was kind, but I fear that Tenko may not grant the same mercy, and I’m not convinced that Himiko _can’t_ legitimately curse me… Would you mind staying here with me?”

“Oh, my therapist is going to be pissed about it, but no. I don’t mind at all.” Rantaro watched Korekiyo smile underneath his mask as he went back to bed, pulling the adventurer along right behind him. They both climbed right up, and Korekiyo grabbed a book from the table beside him

“So, I was rereading Plato’s _Allegory of the cave…”_ Korekiyo flipped through a few pages of his notebook before beginning on his thoughts for the day. Rantaro had expected something about his thought process for earlier, but watching Korekiyo relax against the pillows of his bed as he spoke about something that he had such a passion for just managed to fill Rantaro with… something. It may have been pride, but if it was pride, it was pride shifted a little bit to the left. In a way, maybe they had both been helping one another heal. Helping someone through something like this was really fulfilling for him; if he couldn’t help those who he had hurt inadvertently in the past, he might as well do it with those he knew he could. A pause in Korekiyo’s spiel caught his attention once again. “We should visit Greece together someday, Rantaro. I’ve been once, but I wouldn’t mind having a more skilled adventurer at my side. I quite like your companionship.” Rantaro’s heart stopped in his chest, and it hit him all at once. All the long nights up talking together, the way sunlight glittered off of Korekiyo’s hair and eyes, every single little ‘I read this and thought of you’ bounced back and forth…. Well.

It seemed they were both having realizations today. 


	7. Chapter 7

Ryoma wondered why they ever even provided them with a kitchen.

There were some people that could get up and make their own food, sure, but they could just as easily ask the staff for it. Under normal circumstances, there wouldn’t have been anything wrong with it. Unfortunately, these were not normal circumstances by any means. He could ignore Miu stealing parts of the stove for her gadgets and whatnot, as well as Tenko not so stealthily sneaking snacks to Himiko at all hours of the day, but watching the ultimate maid try to do ‘her duty’ despite her injuries was physically paining him, and he wasn’t even the one doing anything. He had taken a seat in a nearby chair, his cat in his lap while he made sure Kirumi didn’t fall over dead. Right now, she was cutting something or other with what seemed to be some pretty severe pain. Her face was all screwed up, but he couldn’t tell if that was the pain or the concentration; it could have been either. Despite the myriad of lacerations and her fair share of broken bones, her work was just as precise as ever. 

Ryoma had just started zoning out as Kirumi suddenly dropped the knife, and when he focused back in, he could see her hands shaking. It hit the floor with a clatter, and the kitchen fell silent. Kirumi made no move to grab the knife, just staring. “Uh… you want me to get that for ya?”

She seemed to compose herself a bit at the sound of his voice, answering immediately. “No. Please do not hassle yourself, you’re still healing from your injuries.” With a bit of a struggle, she managed to get down and pick the knife up, heading over to the sink.

“And you’re not?” Kirumi ignored him, turning the water on. “You’re not supposed to get your stitches wet.”

The maid sighed, lowering her head and grabbing a pair of rubber gloves from a box nearby. She slipped them on, cringing at the snap against her skin, and washed off the knife. Ryoma frowned, but he didn’t interrupt her. She washed the knife, dried it, and went right back to what she was doing, facial expression and all. “Is there anything in particular you would like me to make?”

“Healthier coping mechanisms.” 

“I don’t find that very funny.”

“Neither do I. What a coincidence,” he leaned back in the chair, just barely, as he scratched behind his cat’s ears. She purred, headbutting his chest gently. “What are you doing all of this for, anyway?”

“It’s my duty to serve in any way I can. Frankly, I get restless if I don’t,” the knife was set aside in favor of putting the food into a stock pot and the stove just barely being turned on. She sighed as she stepped back, carefully removing the gloves. “I am a maid, after all. What am I if I don’t dedicate myself wholeheartedly to my work?”

“Prime minister of Japan, if I remember correctly. Are you done now?”

Kirumi pursed her lips. “It needs to stay like that for about half an hour. I was planning on preparing other things-”

“Sit down.” When Kirumi didn’t move, he sighed. “I don’t wanna phrase it as like, an order, just sit with me for a little while.” Hesitantly, the maid pulled a chair up across from him, settling down and crossing her ankles. She was one of the few people that insisted on wearing clothes similar to what they would wear in their day to day life, and damn, it certainly didn’t look comfy to him. “Now, whatever you’re thinkin’ about, just forget about it for like, 20 minutes. It happened. It was probably out of your control. You have to live with it now.”

“Ryoma, pardon my boldness, but that’s rich coming from you.” Ryoma paused, looking up at her. Her head was down, and her hands were shaking. They were always shaking. “You died because you couldn’t get over your past. You let me  _ kill you  _ because you couldn’t get over your past. How I attempt to reintegrate myself into normal society is wholeheartedly none of your business, and if I may be frank, you have no right to pass judgement on it to begin with.”

“...Huh. I guess you’re right,” he shifted in his seat a bit. He had started to mellow out and relax once he found out he wasn’t going back to prison, and the cat was certainly helping, but his past did still haunt him, especially with the killing game tossed into the mix on top of that. He still had bad days, but the actual therapist and the friends were helping. It sort of felt like he was getting rid of the whole ‘no one to fight for’ thing one piece at a time, even if it was a bit of a struggle. “Still, though, I’m told I can’t beat myself up over this sort of thing forever, so why do you get to?”

“I tried to kill all of our classmates-”

“For the greater good of Japan. Nobody blames you, Kirumi, they love you.” He ran his hand down his cat’s back, looking up at the ceiling. “It’s not like you have anybody to make it up to or avenge.”

“You have every right to be mad at me, as does everyone else.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t care enough to use it, and everyone kinda just seemed to forget that Kokichi got like, three different people killed. You’re the least of everyone’s concerns.” He glanced back over at her again, and her skirt was balled up in her hands. She looked stiff and stressed out, almost mad. 

“...I don’t know what I would do with myself if I wasn’t working,” she muttered tensely. “I can think of no better way to apologize to the people that I’ve wronged than by offering them my services and praying that they may one day forgive me for my crimes. I understand my value, my importance, yet at the same time, what good am I if I cannot adhere myself to the code of honor I’ve set in place for myself?” 

“You’re not budging on this, huh?” Ryoma sighed, setting his cat on the floor. She shook her little head, the bell around her neck jingling, and she trotted off as Ryoma turned to Kirumi, sitting in a slouch with his elbows on his knees. “Fine. As the person you hurt the most, what do you wanna do for me so that you can feel properly forgiven?”

“...I suppose just helping would be fine.” Before the sentence was even fully out, Ryoma was taking his hat off and dropping it on the floor. It was well within both of their reaches, right until Ryoma leaned back in his chair again and crossed his arms.

“Oh no. Damn. There goes my hat. Sure would be nice if someone would hand it to me.” Kirumi raised an eyebrow, reaching down and picking up the hat. She held it out to Ryoma, and he took it from her. “Thanks. Man, that was such a great act of service, Kirumi, I forgive you for murdering me.”

The maid frowned again. “It can’t possibly be that simple.”

“Nope. You’ve done so much for everyone already, that simple act just pushed it over the edge. Or, y’know, I already forgave you, and you’re beating yourself up for no reason.”

“And you’re not doing the same?”

“My circumstances were different. I get to blame myself all I want for my family and my girlfriend dying. You get a second shot, and no one else got hurt but me. My acceptance is the only one that should matter, even if no one else blames you anyway.” The maid still didn’t look convinced, about to argue again, but Ryoma sighed and leaned forward. “It would help me if you stopped trying to earn what you never lost.”

“...I have a condition, since I will not accept any traditional form of payment from you for this favor.”

“Shoot.”

“I would like to attempt the healing process together. If anyone asks why I am not working, I would like the explanation to be because it is your will. If I must learn to forgive myself, you must as well, and we’ll both do our best to help one another.” They both just sat there for a second, staring at one another. On one hand, Ryoma knew how hard it could be for this to happen, and he couldn’t promise anything. He had been working for a long time, and he still had a ways to go himself, but at the same time, that was the exact reason he could have used someone, and before he knew what he was even saying, he was holding a hand out to Kirumi. She gently shook it.

“Alright. Yeah. We’ll do that.”

“After dinner, I hope. There’s no point in letting a half made meal go to waste.”

“...Fine. Granted,” she was up before he even finished speaking, heading right back to the stove, and Ryoma chuckled softly. “Someone else gets the dishes, though.”

“You drive an incredibly hard bargain,” Kirumi sighed, but she was smiling this time, ever so slightly, and for once, he could bring himself to do so, too. Watching her work the way she did, he knew it wouldn’t be easy; just like last time, it would probably be a bunch of long nights spent awake, wondering what went wrong and where it did, but this time, there was a certain hope, deep down, knowing that he had someone else to be nearby and to  _ try  _ that was going through the same thing that he was, to a degree. Nothing would really fix the past, but he could come to terms with it, and for both of them, this was a start, wasn’t it? 

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, so I don't know what constitutes a 'Graphic Depictions of Violence' tag. Should I add one just to be safe? Thanks for reading!


End file.
